


Lost Wings

by Verilidaine



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Abortion, Mechpreg, Miscarriage, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verilidaine/pseuds/Verilidaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-war AU.  Starscream returns home after a voyage, with the worst kind of news.  Not a happy story.  Maybe grab some kleenex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from [otpprompts on Tumblr](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/85589170918/imagine-that-someone-in-your-otp-3-is-pregnant). 
> 
> Terminology: "To kindle" - the Cybertronian equivalent of "to conceive"

“Lord Prime,” the aide murmured as he came in, careful not to startle the big mech who was absorbed in his work.  

It took Optimus a moment, but his optics finally flickered and he focused outward, looking at the aide.  “Yes, Treacol?”

“You requested to be notified when the--when your Grace’s Consort returned.”

Optimus frowned.  It wasn’t a secret that Starscream was unpopular, and only his status as Matrix Bearer shielded them from the worst of the vicious rumors and insults that surrounded their bonding.  As Prime, he was still respected, but nothing could persuade those who worked around and for him to afford that same respect to Starscream, who hated the title of Consort.

“I asked to be notified when Honored Counselor Starscream returned,” he said.

“As you say, your Grace.”

“I take it that he has?” Optimus asked, standing.

“Yes, your Grace.”

Optimus waited for a moment, then, “And…?”

“And, your Grace?” Treacol asked with perfectly respectful harmonics and tone.  

“Where is he?” Optimus asked.

“I do not know, your Grace,” Treacol said, and bowed.  “Your Grace,” he added to excuse himself, and disappeared back the way he’d come.  

Optimus shook his head and sighed, rubbing his mask with his hand.  Starscream hadn’t commed him, which was strange.  Usually he heard from the seeker before he reached the planet.  Asking the staff to alert him of his mate’s return was more to force them to acknowledge his presence than anything else.  

He sent off a questioning ping, which was answered slowly, but with a location.  Roof.

With a pleased rumble in his engines, Optimus set off to welcome his mate home.  Starscream was always insatiable for at least a few days after returning from one of the interstellar trips, and interfacing under the open sky was a favorite of his.  

If Prime’s sense of propriety would have ever allowed it, Starscream would have happily fragged him in public, in plain sight for all his critics to see.  Denied that, he settled for the semi-visible private roof.

As he stepped out onto the roof, Optimus made his presence known with a playful rev of his engines, but as he cleared the last step and moved forward, he got a better look at the set of Starscream’s wings, and he throttled back.

“Starscream?” he asked softly, taking a step closer to the seeker, who was facing away from him, looking over the city.  

Starscream drew in air, cycled it through, and vented it back out.  His wings angled back, tracking Optimus’s movement as he slowly came up to him.  It was all the acknowledgement of the Prime’s presence that he gave.  

When he was close enough, Optimus put his hands on the jet’s shoulders, and then squeezed gently.  “What’s wrong?”  

He could feel the tension the question created just through Starscream’s fied.

Starscream didn’t answer for almost a klik, and then he spat, “I kindled.”

Optimus’s spark felt like it froze for a moment, and then joy and excitement and _wonder_ all came surging out.  “You--I thought, but--” he stammered as Starscream turned to look at him, optics dark.  When he saw the grief in them, his spark sank.  “What…”  He reached for Starscream’s face, meaning to touch his jaw, maybe curl his fingers around the seeker’s neck in a gesture of comfort, but Starscream quickly slapped his hand away and shoved him aside.  

“Pah.  I knew you’d get all sentimental.”  Starscream stalked past him, taking several long strides before stopping in the center of the roof, wings hiked high, trembling almost imperceptibly.  His arms were held tightly to his front, and Optimus stayed where he was.  

“Starscream … what happened?”

Another cycle and x-vent.  “I lost it.  During the interstellar travel.  Perceptor figured out what was happening when we landed, I thought I was dying.  Said it was too much systems strain too early.  The newspark wasn’t strong enough to handle it.”

Optimus bowed his head and murmured a short, mournful prayer for the lost spark.  “I’m … so sorry,” he finally said.  All his eloquence seemed to have vanished, lessons learned after eons of comforting mecha who’d lost someone they cared for, forgotten.  

“Doesn’t matter,” Starscream said with a careless shrug of his wings.  “Wasn’t expecting it, won’t miss it.”

Optimus shifted forward a little, his own need to know what had happened just barely second to his need to comfort his mate.  But Starscream’s frame was telling him to stay away, far away, and he would always respect when the seeker needed space.  So he allowed himself to mourn the spark that would have been a part of them, and to ask.  “Did … Perceptor say anything about how--that is, I thought you couldn’t--how was it possible for you to kindle?  I thought you couldn’t.”

“So did I,” Starscream said.  “So did everyone who’s ever looked at me.  Perceptor thinks it was a one in some quadrillion-odd chance.  Fluke in the universe, basically.  One of the junior medics kept mumbling on about Primus’s blessing and the Matrix, but frag him.”

“Is your condition…”

“Can’t say,” Starscream said.  “Everything’s still too distorted from the abortion to get clear readings.”

Optimus’s spark clenched and throbbed in an uneasy, sickening way.  “Abortion?”

“You can ask Perceptor for all the technical details.  As I understood it, what little I was able to comprehend at the time, the newspark was guttering and had to be aborted immediately, or there was a not-insignificant risk of it pulling my spark with it.”  He held his hand out, flat, tilting it back and forth.  “Abortion, miscarriage, they have the same net result.  It’s a technicality.  It would have miscarried if left alone for much longer.  Anyway, the process distorted my spark energy, so we can’t merge until I’m cleared, and Perceptor can’t get any accurate readings for a while.”

“I’m so sorry,” Optimus repeated quietly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Starscream answered again.  “Wasn’t expecting it, won’t miss it.”

Optimus drew in a vent, then hesitated.  “If … you hadn’t gone--”

“If I hadn’t gone I wouldn’t have _lost_ it,” Starscream snarled, wings rattling in warning.  “You think I don’t fragging know that?”

“No, _no_ ,” Optimus said quickly.  “That isn’t what I mean.  No.  I don’t blame you, Starscream, there is no blame here.  If there is blame, it should be on me, I should have been able to feel it.”

“You had no reason to look,” Starscream said shortly, wings lowering a little.

“I know, but I…” Optimus shook his head.   “No, what I mean to say is … had we found out in different circumstances, better circumstances, do you think…”

“...I might have kept it,” Starscream finished for him, voice flat and dead.  “I don’t know.  I never thought about it.  No reason to.”

“I know,” Optimus said.  “We’ll have to wait, to see what Perceptor says, but if there has been a change, would--”

“Not now,” Starscream whispered brokenly.  “I can’t have that talk now.”  His wings shook, and then the tension drained from them and they sagged down, and the warning to stay away vanished.

Optimus was against his back immediately, arms around him.  Now he could feel the shaking and the grief that saturated the seeker’s field.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Shouldn’t be,” Starscream managed, struggling to keep his voice level.  “I’m the one who lost--”  His vocalizer spat out static and he crumpled forward, curling in on himself as he started to weep.

Optimus held him, and didn’t fight his own tears.  

 

 


End file.
